Bacio della Morte
by AbsoluteAddiction-x
Summary: 'Kiss of Death' "The bite of the metal not relenting, even as he captured Antonio's lips in a kiss. His very own bacio della morte." Human names used, warnings inside. Hurt/Angst/Tragedy, implied Romance if you squint.


…_What was I thinking writing this? Honestly, I don't even know. Of all the things to write my first Hetalia fanfiction about…_

_I have plenty of cheerful, adorable (occasionally lemony) ones in my folders. But no. I choose to finish this one first. Credit goes to another fanfiction that I have read (really sorry but I can't for the life of me remember what it was called) for giving me the idea of one of the Italies having to kill off their respective partners due to them knowing too much._

_Title taken from Google Translate, and we all know how (un)reliable that is. Feel free to correct me seeing as I'm pretty sure it's going to be wrong in some way, and I don't speak Italian further than a very limited few bits and pieces here and there._

_Disclaimer: If this is the kind of things that my mind comes up with, I'm so glad that I don't own Hetalia._

_Warning: Implied, non-graphic character death, Angst._

_~x~_

_Ba__cio della Morte_

_Kiss of Death_

He had told him. Told him again and again – with both words and actions.

"_Just leave it__, Antonio."_

He had told him _so many goddamn times_, but the _idiot_ couldn't just leave it and do as he was told for once in his life, could he? No, he just had to push and push and dig around until he got the answers he was looking for. He never stopped to think for _one fucking moment_ that, perhaps it was for his own good that he didn't tell him anything. But the bastard never learnt, did he?

And so here he stood, pressing the barrel of his gun to the head of the man that even now didn't even have the intelligence to look afraid.

He just looked confused. As if he couldn't believe that it was _his_ Lovino whose finger was poised unwaveringly on the trigger of the object that had the power to end his life in less than a split second.

But it _was_ "his Lovino" – despite the suave, flawless cut of his spotless black suit, and the mask that showed anything but his usual childish anger or embarrassment (it wouldn't dare). It was _because_ he was "his Lovino" that he was doing this. It hadn't taken a moment of thought when his superior had announced that Antonio Fernandez Carriedo had become a threat to them for him to volunteer himself for the job.

_Because there was no arguing with a superior. A life would always be taken; it was your choice whether it would be the strange__r who you knew nothing of or your own._

He knew his fellow _Mafiosos_ – they would have no mercy for the innocent Spaniard whose only crime was to ask the wrong questions; they wouldn't give Antonio the chance to die with any form of dignity. By taking the job upon himself, he was performing the greatest act of kindness that he had ever exhibited in his own existence. One bullet would be all it would take – a single tightening of a few muscles in his finger and it would be over. A life was such a fragile thing. So easily shattered.

His palms felt sweaty; the only cracks in his otherwise perfect composure.

How many times had he been the last thing that a person ever saw before he put a bullet through their skull? He had stopped counting once the figure had exceeded the first hundred. How strange it was that murder had simply become another part of his life. How peculiar that the metal of a firearm had become akin to his own flesh and blood when he held it. It terrified him as he realised that he couldn't even remember a time before this was so. Just as it terrified him that he couldn't remember a life without Antonio that wasn't just an unending blot of darkness.

_Click. _Safety off.

The bite of the metal – no longer cold, after having had chance to warm to the Spaniard's body heat, but still having a bite none the less – not relenting, even as he captured Antonio's lips in a kiss. His own _bacio della morte. _

_It's nothing personal…_

The man that he loved would die by his hand.

The lips against his own were unmoving – caught too off-guard to respond in turn, for which he was thankful. If Antonio had held him, kissed him, told him that he loved him as he usually did, he didn't have the faith in his own strength to go through with this. Please, don't think that he hadn't considered running away; taking Antonio and running as far and fast as they could – but there was nowhere left for them anymore. All across the globe his _people _had networks. The Mafia. The Triads. Bratva. They could run, but they couldn't hide.

They were nations, but they would die face-down on the ground like dogs.

He couldn't prolong the inevitable any longer – he had already broken every rule that he had made over the centuries, to make his grisly responsibility bearable. Never learn about the target other than the reason that they earnt themselves a personalised bullet. Never ask questions. Never relate to them in any way. Never let them into you conscience…or your heart.

With the taste of the Spaniard lingering on his lips, a hint of earth and spice and, of course, tomatoes (he'd never be able to eat the fruits again), he pulled away, allowing himself one final glance at _the target_. Innocent eyes. Innocent expression. _And Antonio had always said that he was the innocent one._

A second later, a shot rang out, the sound echoing off of the walls, seeming so out of place in the quaint Spanish villa that was more akin to housing laughter and half-assed arguments. The birdsong had fallen silent.

Return gun to holster. Straighten tie. Carry on living.

…_Just business._

_~x~_

_I don't know if the "Bacio della Morte" is actually used, seeing as I can't say I've ever been part of the Italian/Sicilian Mafia. I just came across the concept whilst trawling the internet and it apparently decided to make its home in my brain._

_Oh, and yes, I know that Lovi killing 'Toni would have major economic implications... but I was more focusing on trying to write a bit of angst so I hope you'll forgive me for glossing over that particular issue._

_Hopefully my next contribution to the fandom will be a little more upbeat than this…_

_~Absolute x_


End file.
